Night has fallen, and the people who were formerly walking on these streets, are now nowhere to be seen. Instead, they have settled inside the warmly lit shops, which shine like a beacon to those who still remain outside. If the golden lights are not enough to beckon the lonely, wandering souls indoors, it's the cheers of jovial laughter that will.

Bars and pubs are where people can enjoy themselves without any worries about what lies beyond the safety of the premises because people learn to eat and drink to live and forget.

But would they feel safe knowing a murderer is amongst them? Could I upset everyone’s evening with my wicked presence, just so I could have a meal? Maybe, I shouldn’t go inside. After all, I killed a man. Do I deserve to eat like any other human being? 

The question is not if others can accept me as a murderer; it is if I can accept myself for doing what I needed to do. But, by the looks of my guilty conscious revealing itself in the form of excuses that are starving me both physically and mentally, I cannot answer my question. Nonetheless, I must eat. 

I enter the nearest eatery and walk to the counter. I hear whispers from all sides growing hush and anxious, but I keep walking.

“What’ll be?” says a young woman wearing a brown apron.

“What food you serve?” I ask. 

She slides a menu toward me. Then, she heeds another customer who sits down also.

It’s strange. These writings are not in my native language, yet I can read them. That reminds me, the sign at the front door reads “Silver Lion,” but how did I know that vague name corresponds to a place to eat, and not some other type of establishment?

Food comes first, so never mind that. I order a meat dish and a water.

After a few moments of waiting, I grow bored. I look over to the woman until she makes eye contact with me. “Is there any news from this country?” I question.

“Are you a traveler? Well, for the news, there are more bad than good. New types of monsters are being sighted all over the kingdom. Those creatures are built stronger and faster than ever before. Travelers should beware of the higher risk, and know that death will likely come to those who leave the city’s walls,” she speaks lowly.

I say nothing but glance at her to continue.

“Many infamous criminals are mobilizing ever since a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know for what reason they’ve returned to perform their heinous deeds after being dormant for so long. But, they seem here to stay, and now they’re stirring up trouble for the newly ordained emperor and empress,” she sighs softly.

“What kind of criminals are they?” I question curiously.

“Oh, you know, arsonists, mass murderers, grand theft of the crown, terrorists who want to destroy the world...” she trails off.

“That last bit cannot be true,” I say in disbelief. 

“Hehe, you got me,” she breaks out into a small smile but returns stoic as she continues.

“But who knows if that will happen again? After all, the "Last Contender War" ended a mere forty years ago,” she murmurs uneasily.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” I comment, going along with the flow of the conversation.

And that was the cue for our brief exchange to end. She heads off to wait on more orders from the other customers.

After finishing the meal, I pay the check and leave the pub. I walk around to find a place to stay for the night and soon I spot a sign that reads “Harte Inn.”

“Welcome to the Harte Inn. Do you wish to rent a room?” the man at the desk greets me as I enter.

“Yes, how much is a room per night?” I ask.

“It’s five silvers, breakfast included, which for tomorrow morning is a bowl of stew and a loaf of bread,” he answers easily.

Wordlessly, I hand him the silver, and he gives me a key.

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Since the buildings on this street only reach an upward of two stories, it does not take long to find my room. Upon entering the quarters, my eyes zone onto the bed, and before I know it, I’m already fast asleep with clothes still on, along with the day’s fatigue.

--- --- ---

Thanks to a dreamless night, I wake up with the rising sun. Surprisingly, I did not get any nightmares. It should be convenient plot-wise that nightmares would be sent my way to spook me. Either that or a message, welcoming me to my new life from whoever put me into this world.

But, seeing as nothing happened in my sleep, maybe the unknown being is a benevolent soul who just decided to transfer me, free of charge. However, that reasoning is a bit far-fetched because people never do things without an aim. But then again, if they did want something from me in return for the chore of putting me here in the first place, they would have told me my purpose or main objective was, right from the beginning.

Seeing that I'm free to do whatever, I'll go with the flow of random events. I did just that yesterday, and I even made some progress in settling into this new life thanks to those blue boxes. I take the coins out of my pocket. Last night, the man told me that ten coppers are worth one silver, and a hundred silvers are worth one gold. When I showed him my badge, he begged me to let him go. 

“I am not wanted by the Adventurer’s Guild, so why did they send you?!”

So, I am an adventurer in this world. How convenient. I have to thank the man for the information he gave me. Well, I let him go, along with his other arm in one piece.

--- --- ---

I arrive at the Adventurer’s Guild. It’s a mid-size two-story building, and compared to the other buildings on this street, the Guild building is a bit larger than the others, but not so much as to make more than a slight difference. 

I enter and walk up to the teller. 

“How can I help you?” the lady at the desk greets me.

“Do you have any jobs available?” I ask.

“Opening jobs at this guild, or do you mean quests?” she inquires quizzically.

“Quests,” I swiftly correct myself.

“Show me your badge,” she states a matter of factually.

I hand her the badge, and she places it on a magic circle. Immediately, the magic circle glows with a light blue color, and a screen pops up, which it hovers above the badge.

“Since you’re a copper rank, the only quest you can accept is "Wolf Extermination" requested by C.J.,” her eyes skim over the screen. “The adventurers will slay fifteen wolves at Genry Cave and they must bring back the left paws belonging to the wolves as proof. An additional note left by the issuer of the quest states that whoever takes up this quest can keep the rest of the slain wolves, on top of the 50 silvers reward,” she finishes.

“How can I move up a rank?” I ask, already bored with this tedious task.

She looks at me with shock written all over her face.

“Is there something wrong?” I say, genuinely concerned about the possibility that I blew my cover and revealed myself as a person who does not belong.

“... No, it’s just that according to your records, you have well enough credits to be in steel ranking but you have never upgraded your rank.”

Weird. Maybe the badge was already equipped with credits by the time I came into this world?

--- --- ---

I am currently on the main street. Stuffed in my pockets are wrapped up chunks of various dried meats. With food taken care of, the only other thing I need is a bigger weapon. The knife in my pocket is not going to cut it.

. .

. . .

“Get out,” a burly man blocking the doorway to a Blacksmith’s shop says. He grabs an axe from the display window and makes a show of power by raising it above his head in a striking position.

I say nothing and turn away to find another shop that is hopefully more welcoming.

. .

. . .

Only the word "Leave" resounds in my head as I step outside the second Blacksmith's shop. So, what the fuck is going on? What I thought was a simple task, appears not so elementary anymore. Maybe the reason I can’t get what I want is due to my incompetence. Or perhaps, it could be someone else's fault that is preventing me from reaching my goal. Either way, I'm allowed to be frustrated, can't I?

Question the next shop owner.

That’s right; if I want answers, then all I have to do is ask. I look around for another Blacksmith’s shop. It takes me a while, but eventually, I find one tucked in the back ends of the main street. From the outside, I could see a boy behind the counter. He looks like a pushover; this is perfect.

I wait for my breathing to return to normal, and walk through the shop’s door. 

He notices me quickly, and his demeanor shifts into that of a no-bullshit attitude. “I am not allowed to sell any weapons to you. Please leave,” the boy sternly speaks.

“Why? Is it because I’m a girl,” I say coming to my conclusion.

“No, now leave,” he says flatly.

“I am not leaving until you answer me,” my voice rises with noticeable anger in my tone.

“Leave. Now,” his voice also grows irritated.

In a flash, I reach over the counter and grab his apron. I lift him off the ground with one hand, while my other hand closes into a fist, raised and ready to strike. “Talk, or else I'll beat you black and blue,” I seethe, too frustrated at this outcome. 

He sneers at me, now that he’s hanging at my face level. “I don’t sell to the likes of team killers.”